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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713689">Night Time Routine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralina/pseuds/Ralina'>Ralina</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:07:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralina/pseuds/Ralina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over. Hermione still suffers from the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Will Fred be able to help her cope?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fremione Fanatics Spring Scenes Flash Fest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Of Hot Chocolate and Pygmy Puff Slippers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/multilingualism/gifts">multilingualism</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyloSongstress/gifts">ReyloSongstress</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this little story for the Fremione Fanatics Spring Scenes Flash Fest. The prompts I used were:</p><p>1. “Hermione has long term effects of the Cruciatus Curse but has worked very hard to hide it from everyone. Fred has noticed and discreetly helps her without making her talk about it.” (by ReyloSongstress)</p><p>2. "Ok, I get the bathrobe, but why the pygmy puff slippers?" which was submitted by me and inspired by a prompt we had in my fabulous “Hearts and Cauldrons” discord group. </p><p>This story was betaed by my writer-friend multilingualism again. She’s the best, I tell you!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/ralina003/51107590353/in/dateposted-public/"></a>
  </p>
</div><p>
  <span>Hermione awoke in her bed, panting. It wasn’t the first time she was woken by nightmares after having barely escaped Malfoy Manor, and it surely wouldn’t be the last time. Only that the nightmares weren’t the only souvenir she kept from her stint with Bellatrix. The pain from the Crucio had never fully gone away and even though she was mostly fine during the day, the aches and tremors returned from time to time, mostly when it was most inconvenient for them to do so. She’d gotten better at hiding the signs, mostly because she could not stand the boys’ pitying looks or Molly’s attempts to make her talk about it. She did not want to, because talking about it only made it more real and give Bellatrix even more room in her life than she already had. The witch was dead, but sometimes it felt like she’d never fully left her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione sighed, dragging her shaking, sweaty body out of her bed at the Burrow. The Weasleys allowed her to stay until she was able to get her own place and Hermione was grateful for it. After finishing her NEWTs it was like all her energy had left her and it was hard for her to even find enough purpose to drag herself out of bed every morning, let alone to find a job… or decide what to do with herself. Two years ago it would have been the most annoying thing for her, as she had been a driven person once, but all her drive seemed to have disappeared once Harry had freed them from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Molly assured her she was not in a hurry and that she deserved some rest after what she, Ron and Harry had done and for once, Hermione did not question her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Burrow’s kitchen was empty and dark. Hermione cast a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lumos</span>
  </em>
  <span> with shaky fingers, and padded over to the magical fridge that Molly used to store the food. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks like I’m not the only one looking for a midnight snack.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione let out a little squeak before she whipped around, training her wand at the man that had suddenly appeared in the doorframe. His ginger hair was tousled, and he wore a bathrobe combined with… She blinked, before focussing on Fred Weasley’s innocent grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, I get the bathrobe. But why the pygmy puff slippers?” The question was out before she had a chance to think about it. “They’re not yours, are they?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily this was Fred and he did not look insulted in the least. Instead, he snorted, walking into the dark kitchen with an amused grin and a twinkle in his eyes. “Absolutely not. They’re George’s of course,” he said, passing her to open the door of the fridge himself. “Hot chocolate?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione blinked. “I… sure. Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione watched him silently as he prepared the milk, adding real bits of chocolate to it while heating it up. Watching him putter around the kitchen was soothing her nerves and it wasn’t because of the ridiculous outfit he wore. Not being alone helped, especially after a nightmare as bad as this one. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing at the Burrow anyway?” she found herself asking, just as Fred handed over one of the mugs, motioning to follow him into the living room. There, she could see a crumpled blanket on the sofa and a soft pillow, indicating that he’d probably been sleeping here. It did not make sense. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fred smiled. “I guess you won’t buy it when I told you I came to steal some of mum’s chocolate. She has the best, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione nodded, but did not interrupt. She could tell that he wasn’t finished and she wouldn’t have known what to reply anyway. Her brain still felt fuzzy and with dread she realized that the tremors in her hand were starting to return. It probably was the cold inside those rooms, as the fire in the fireplace had gone out a while ago. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“George’s having a girl over,” Fred continued, folding his long legs in front of him. Now that he’s stripped off the hideous pink slippers she could see that his feet were indeed naked, toes wiggling into her direction as he noticed her gaze. “And the walls at our flat are pretty thin and my dear twin tends to forget his silencing charms when he’s getting overly excited.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Hermione said, unable to help the chuckle escaping her mouth. “That’s…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Fred agreed, smiling. “I don’t really mind though. The Burrow’s still home and mum makes the best of breakfasts.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “Don’t blame you for bunking in my old room to enjoy my mum’s cooking talent. You’ll appreciate it even more, once you’ve moved out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione chuckled. “Not a good cook, are you?” she asked, surprised to find herself teasing the redhead. Somehow she felt safe around him, safe enough to tease him, knowing that he could handle a bit of playful banter. She wasn’t mistaken. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I am brilliant at whipping up Canary Cream and Nosebleed Nougat,” he said, sipping his hot chocolate. “But that’s usually not what you have for breakfast. Or is there something you’d like to confess, Miss Granger?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione shook her head, staring into her cup. Suddenly their conversation felt less playful and more… dangerous? No, that wasn’t the right word. Fred was anything but. Still, his brown eyes looked at her with a warm, encouraging expression, that made her heart beat faster in her chest. He wasn’t asking about her nightmares or the after-effects of the Cruciatus, was he? No, he couldn’t have known. She’s always been careful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not at all,” she finally mumbled, gripping her cup a little faster. For a moment it had been shaking in her hands, but she had not spilt any of the dark liquid, thank Merlin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. I was afraid I would have to hide my secret stash of Canary Cream from now on… or Ginny’s slippers.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione blinked. “So they aren’t George’s then.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The redhead snorted. “Nope. But I use to steal them whenever I’m at the Burrow. It gets pretty cold at night down here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry for blocking your old room. Why aren’t you using Bill’s and Charlie’s, or Percy’s?” she asked while feeling the chilly air creeping up upon her. She’d have to go back to bed soon, or else the ache in her limbs would get even worse. She shifted in her seat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fred shrugged. “That would feel like moving back in with mum and that’s definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what this is. Don’t want to give her the wrong impressions.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was some strange reasoning, Hermione thought, but she wasn’t commenting on it. Fred was old enough to make his own decisions, even if it meant he’d probably wake up with a cricked neck. “Of course not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a groan she pulled herself back onto her feet, knowing that she’d need to get back to bed before she would no longer be able to climb up the stairs. Only that she did not want to be alone again, having nothing but the darkness, the pain and the creaking of the old house to occupy her thoughts. What if… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Going back up?” Brown eyes looked at her with a twinkle. “Pity. Was just starting to enjoy your company.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione paused. It was a crazy idea, she thought, but somehow she could not get it out of her head. She’d do both of them a favour, wouldn’t she?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if you joined me upstairs?” She asked, a blush spreading on her cheeks. “I mean, there’re two beds and you’d be way more comfortable there. And we could chat a little longer…” She trailed off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fred blinked and for a moment he looked unsure of what to say. But then his expression changed, a warm smile breaking out on his face. “I’ll have to warn you that I talk in my sleep,” he said, already putting his mug aside. “If that doesn’t bother you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione shook her head. “Not at all.” She doubted she lay completely silent in her sleep. Merlin, what if Fred heard her having a nightmare? What had she been thinking? Well, it was too late now. She had uttered the invitation and she couldn’t just take it back now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then. Let’s do a little sleepover,” Fred said, hopping from the sofa. With a grin, he put on the pink pygmy puff slippers and banned their empty mugs into the kitchen. “After you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hermione nodded, slowly walking towards the narrow staircase. She was going to spend the night with Fred Weasley, she realized, and even though nothing untoward would happen between them, she could not help but feel excited at the prospect. </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Of Whispered Words in the Darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>beta by multilingualism</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hermione hastily padded towards her bed, her naked feet making no sound on the wooden floor. She could see that Fred was watching her from the door frame after having gently closed the door behind him. Only when she ducked below the covers did he walk closer, shrugging off the bathrobe revealing cosy, purple pyjamas. With a grin he climbed into the other bed, pulling the green duvet up until he was covered up to his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s better,” he sighed, eyes twinkling in her direction. “Even though I’ll better sneak downstairs before mum’s getting up. She’d probably assume that I tried to get lucky.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione stared at him. “Well, that’s probably something we should try to avoid then. Don’t want her drawing any false conclusions, not after Ron and I…” She trailed off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred snorted. “Yeah, she’d probably think you have a thing for redheads.” His eyes twinkled. “Which would be totally understandable, of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She blushed, but luckily it was too dark for him to see. Was he just trying to flirt with her? No, she was imagining things. She did not know what to reply and so she stared into the darkness, focusing the ceiling above her. More than once she had counted the scorch marks, asking herself where some of them had come from. Well, she guessed today she had the chance to find out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, sometimes I wonder what you and George did in here, making all these markings all over the ceiling. One could think you ran your own potions lab in here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred snorted. “Course we did. How did you think all those delicious little snacks were created? We spent most of the holidays bunked up here. I did most of the brewing, while Georgie more focussed on Transfiguration and Charms.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione blinked. She hadn’t known. Somehow she had assumed that the twins spent most of their time playing Quidditch and pulling jokes, but suddenly she realized how ridiculous that thought was. Of course, their products had to come from somewhere and it must have taken them quite some time developing them.  “So most of those marks were caused by you then,” she murmured absentmindedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy chuckled. “Absolutely. I’ve always aimed to leave a lasting impression.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned towards him, blinking in confusion. He’d done it again, Hermione thought, because again his words had sounded like he was flirting with her. But was he really? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You definitely do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words were out before she had time to reconsider them. She had no idea what she was doing, but somehow lying in the darkness with him made her feel bold. Maybe it was because he was without his twin today, or because he’d just made her hot chocolate; one could even blame seeing him in the pygmy puff slippers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As do you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred’s words were calm and Hermione could see his brown eyes staring at her in the darkness. He had turned towards her, his smile now unhidden by the thick blanket. “I think it’s pretty safe to say that there’s no one quite like you which definitely isn’t true for me.” He smirked. “In fact, I get mistaken for George all the time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione huffed, now turning onto her side as well. Somehow she too, wanted to look at him and it wasn’t only because he made her feel less alone and distracted her from the pain. Now that she was warm and comfortable she already felt better and with a bit of luck, she’d soon be well enough to fall asleep - if Fred wouldn’t keep her awake. She almost hoped he would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was always able to tell you apart,” she admitted calmly. “It’s true that you look pretty similar, but you’re still different people. And your smile is totally different from George’s.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good different or bad different?” Fred asked and even though it was pretty dark in the room, Hermione could have sworn she saw his eyes twinkling. What was she supposed to say? Fred was handsome, she’d always thought so, and she did like his eyes and his smile. It held so much mischief and humour bust also kindness… but she couldn’t say that, could she? She’d sound like a pining teenager, which she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She barely knew him and she totally did not have a crush on the elder Weasley twin. That would be ridiculous given the fact that she’d only recently dated his brother and broken up with him after only a few weeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just… different,” she therefore murmured, shifting in her bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright. I can work with that,” Fred answered, smiling crookedly. “So, what do you girls do for a sleep-over? Are there any fun games you want to play or… in dunno, is there any smutty story you’d like to share?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stared. That actually wasn’t what she’d had in mind, but suddenly she realized that she had no idea what she had been thinking when inviting him to sleep in her room. It had mostly been a spontaneous idea born out of fear of being alone in the darkness again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t know about typical sleepovers hosted by girls. I’ve never had one, to be honest. I did share a room with your sister though, but she was mostly the one talking about… well boys. I was mostly a silent participant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing wrong with that,” Fred assured her calmly. “So… want me to tell you a story then? I could tell you about </span>
  <em>
    <span>boys</span>
  </em>
  <span>, or how I had a quite embarrassing crush on Madam Hooch during my third year. I did some very reckless flying to impress her. Didn’t work though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione giggled. She could almost see it, young Fred flying loopings while looking for his Professor’s reaction. “How often did you land yourself in the hospital wing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A few times. One time I nearly crashed into the Quidditch stands. That’s when George had a heart to heart with me, telling me that there are many more fishes in the pond.” Fred smiled. “I could give you the same advice if you still aren’t over my idiot of a brother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You mean Ron?” Hermione asked, a little confused about the turn their conversation had taken. “He and I are better off as friends. It took me a while to understand that, but we’ve constantly been fighting and I don’t think it would have gotten any better over the years. He sees it the same way, in case you were wondering.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred nodded. “That’s… I’m glad. He and Lav-Lav are much better suited in my opinion, even though it might take mum a while to accept that. I think she desperately wants you as a daughter-in-law.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione chuckled. “Are you trying to tell me that I should hurry up picking my Weasley? There are only so many of you left…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred shook his head. “Not at all. There’s always Percy…” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “He might be on the shelf for quite a while.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or not. Ginny just told me he has a pretty co-worker named Audrey…” Hermione told him, enjoying the blooming surprise on his face. It was while telling him what she knew about his older brother that she felt her body relax, the last tingles of pain finally ebbing away. All it had needed was a good distraction and luckily that one one of Fred’s specialities. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Of Cuddles and Comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Hermione awoke the next morning, Fred was gone from her room. His blanket had been neatly folded on the bed and there was no trace of him having slept in the room. She already started to ask herself if she’d just imagined their little sleep-over, but when she padded downstairs she found him sitting at the breakfast table, greeting her with a wide smile. All he said to her was a “Morning, Granger” though, but it probably was because of his mother watching them with hawk eyes. Fred was right, Molly Weasley really wanted her as a daughter-in-law and Hermione could almost see the plan forming in the woman’s mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ssssssss</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The next time Hermione woke from a nightmare, her body shaking with pains, Fred was not there. When she padded downstairs to get herself a glass of milk the sofa was untouched, Molly’s knit blanket tidily folded at the edge of the cushion. A wave of disappointment washed over her, which was ridiculous given the fact that the boy didn’t even live at the Burrow any longer, but she could not help it. Having him there in the room with her had felt good, soothing in a way that was totally unexpected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, Hermione prepared herself a mug of hot chocolate but sitting on the sofa covered with Molly’s blanket she realized it did not taste the same. She had no idea what Fred had been doing to it, but his brew had tasted different, better. Maybe when she saw him next, she’d ask him for the recipe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she was back to her room, sleep would not come for her in a long while. It was only when she moved over to Fred’s bed, burying her nose in his pillow inhaling his scent, that she finally found rest. She was too tired to ponder over why that was, but if there was something able to soothe her pain, she surely would not question her luck. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ssssssss</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>She did not see Fred until the next Weasley family lunch. Molly housed it every week and now, that all of her kids had finished school it was where the family came together. To Hermione, it was evident that not only the parents enjoyed this weekly meeting, as most of the time all Weasley kids and their partners were in attendance, even Charlie, who had somehow found a way to catch an international portkey every week. Maybe it was because of the war or maybe they just started to appreciate family time as they grew older, it was impossible for her to tell. Still, Hermione too enjoyed those weekly meetings because even though things between her and Ron had been awkward at first, they still were best friends and it was her chance to talk to the boys. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only that this week she wasn’t sitting next to either of them. Instead, Fred sat down on the empty chair to her right, while Ginny was already seated on her other side. But Hermione found she did not really mind, not in the least. More than once she’d moved to sleep in Fred’s bed at night, soothed to sleep by his slowly fading scent. It was pathetic, really, but it helped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione.” He greeted her with a nod and a smile before casually stretching out next to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Fred. No pygmy puff slippers today?” she asked him with twinkling eyes. She was glad to see him, she realized; it almost felt like she’d missed him, which was ridiculous of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grinned at her. “Nope. I believe Ginny’s suspecting something and ‘s starting to hide them. Very annoying that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She chuckled. “I can imagine. They looked fabulous on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt natural to tease him, like it had with no one else before. With Ron, she’d always been afraid to make him feel ridiculed, even though that would never have been her intention. Still, with him, she always felt like walking on eggshells, whereas Fred seemed to enjoy her teasing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone looks fabulous in pygmy puff slippers,” he said, waving her off. “That’s probably why my dear sister started hiding them. She’s afraid that Harry’ll dump her for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The comment earned him a kick from Ginny below the table. “You wish, Fred,” she said dryly before sinking back into her conversation with Ron and Harry like nothing had happened. Fred did the same, looking at her with a wide grin. This Weasley lunch was going to be different and she found herself looking forward to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Sssssssss</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It had all gone so well until it suddenly wasn’t. Halfway into the lunch, her hands started to tremble, while she felt her fingers going numb. She probably should have been glad that she wasn’t in pain again, because it usually was either of those things for her: pain or numbness. Both options were bothersome but Hermione was glad she did not need to put on a happy facade, while her limbs were aflame, therefore she guessed she should have been thankful. But she wasn’t. She just had been enjoying her conversation with Fred so much, but now she suddenly wasn’t able to concentrate, as it took all her willpower to keep her spoon steady while she ate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took her a moment until Hermione realized that Fred must have asked her a question because she found him focussing on her with expectant, brown eyes.  She closed her eyes in embarrassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. What were you saying?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It pained her to admit her unattentiveness but it could not be helped. Luckily Fred did not seem to mind, as his carefree smile was firmly in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never mind. How about we just sit and eat for a while. Ron’s already thrown us some suspicious gazes,” he said and to her relief, it was exactly what she wanted to do now. It was like he had read her thoughts, but that was impossible of course. Fred Weasley was everything but a Legilimens. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Sssssssss</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Three weeks later she wasn’t quite so sure about that anymore. Somehow it was like Fred </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> because every time another fit seized her and he was there, he seemed to sense something was amiss. He never said anything but once he was suddenly distracting Percy who had just been about to involve her in a discussion about possible careers at the Ministry, as she lost track of the conversation trying to overplay another fit. Another time he unsuspiciously caught her spoon which had just slipped from her numb fingers and threatened to clatter noisily to her plate. He had quick reflexes, she realized, staring at his freckled hand in amazement. There really were many freckles, she thought before she collected herself and sent him a thankful smile. Fred just shrugged, grinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There also were two more sleepovers in her room, as once a week Fred seemed to flee his flat seeking refuge in the Burrow instead. Every time when she found him suddenly appearing in the kitchen, wearing a bathrobe and another hideous pair of slippers, her heart made a little happy dance. There always was hot chocolate and a short conversation on the sofa, before Hermione invited him upstairs. He always accepted with a happy smile and a twinkle in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred never questioned her reason for being awake in the middle of the night, or why she felt the need to invite him into her room, as she never made any move to initiate something between them, other than a bit of innocent flirting. He, too, never tried anything inappropriate and kept their conversations light and flirty. Only today she couldn’t even find herself to enjoy this, as the aches ripping through her body were making it impossible for her to concentrate on anything else, her body shaking below the thick, warm blanket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, move over.” Suddenly Fred was standing right in front of her, brown eyes looking at her full of worry and determination. “Not gonna lie there pretending not to notice anything. That’s a cowardly thing to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione blinked, tears raising behind her eyes but with a nod, she followed his request and moved, until her back was touching the wall. Then, suddenly she felt the bed shift and with wide eyes, she realized that Fred had just fused their single beds with a spell and did the same with their blankets. Only then she saw him climb onto the mattress, his body facing her as his arms came around her, pulling her close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not speak another word, just held her, his right hand drawing slow circles onto her back, while his left hand cradled the hair in her neck. At first, Hermione stiffened in his arms, feeling the urge to pull away and hide herself and her pain from him, but she resisted as she felt his desire to help and make her feel better. It was strange but she trusted him like she barely trusted someone else and the realization was what finally made her relax against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ ‘S alright love,” he murmured into her hair, his voice low and soothing. “I’m here, I have you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With anyone else, Hermione would have taken these words as something that was said to make her feel better and whose sincerity she would have questioned. But with Fred it was different. Somehow she felt like he would not flinch back when he saw her at her lowest, shaking and moaning in pain and so she let go, squeezing her eyes shut as the first sob escaped her mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It hurts,” she admitted, voice trembling with pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss onto her crown. “It’ll get better in a moment. I promise,” he whispered, his right hand moving up and down her back. “Just let go, love. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you know?” she asked, doubt creeping up at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, she felt him softly shaking his head against her hair. “Let’s just say I have some experience with your situation as well,” he murmured, his voice light and soothing. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, love, I’m mostly fine now, but I can tell you, one day, in case you really want to know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded and more importantly, she believed him. Fred had never lied to her and going by his attentiveness and discretion during the last weeks, she knew he’d not betray her trust. “Okay.” She could barely grit out the word before another wave of pain hit her and another sob was ripped from her mouth. Fred held her through it, slowly rocking her body while he mumbled words of love and encouragement into her hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione could not have said how long it was until the pain finally ebbed away, leaving her sweaty and exhausted. Fred was still there, steady like a rock and gentle like a butterfly or a beam of sunlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she murmured, burying her head against his pyjama-clad chest. A while ago she had started to listen to the steady beat of his heart and it had given her something else to focus on, while she rode out the waves of pain. “For being here, I mean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mention it,” he answered, his left hand moving carefully against the skin of her neck. “There’s nowhere I’d rather have been, Hermione, nowhere at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened, but her brain was still too fuzzy to comprehend what he’d just said. “But…” she started to question his words, but his finger against her lips let her fall silent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No buts, love. I mean it. If this was about me I’d hold you every night, no matter if you’re in pain, wake up from a nightmare or just feel like having a good cuddle. I want to be there through all of it, good and bad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could not help but look at him, eyes full of confusion and hope. “You… you mean it? You’d be there and hold me, every night?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’ll let me? I could be our own nighttime routine and no one needs to know if that’s what you want,” he told her, brown eyes staring at her full of honesty and… could it be love? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione did not know and right now her brain was too tired and fuzzy to consider what he’d just said. But Fred gave her the feeling that it was okay, that he’d be there, holding her without pressuring her for anything.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I’d like that,” she admitted, a shy smile spreading on her lips. “I think I’d like that very much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Brilliant.” Fred exclaimed, his arms tightening as he pressed a soft kiss onto her forehead. Following her instinct, she cuddled closer, her nose inhaling the musky and spicy scent that was Fred before a relaxed sigh fell from her lips. “We’ll figure this out, Hermione. I promise. You’re not alone in this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not,” she whispered, her heart beating excitedly when she realized it was true. “I have you.” No matter how unbelievable it was, she had him whatever that meant. Hermione did not know, but she was looking forward to finding out. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That's it, for today. At first, I wanted this to be the end of the story but then suddenly it wasn't. My muse is a very spontaneous being. Ask my poor beta.<br/>Still, this is a good point to make a little break. The second half of the story will probably go online tomorrow. What do you think? Do you like this so far?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Of Picnics and Bracelets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Somehow I didn't want to wait until tomorrow. So here's your next chapter. Enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Again, Fred was gone when she woke up and Hermione felt a pang of disappointment at the realization. She’d hoped he’d still be there, maybe greet her with a smile or a hug, but then again he had promised her to keep their arrangement quiet - whatever their arrangement was. He’d promised to always be there for her, hold her if she needed to be held. But there had not been any promises of romance or confessions of love and adoration. So, what did that mean for them? Was he being the good older brother, promising to help someone he viewed as a little sister? Or a friend, maybe? Or was there more? Did he maybe feel something like romantic attachment? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did she?</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was all so confusing and Hermione could feel the doubt and fear creeping up on her again. The only way to chase it away was by getting up and starting her daily routine, or what she called a routine these days. She’d promised to help Molly with some household stuff and afterwards she’d do some reading and knitting in the garden. Only that the latter would not prevent her mind from wandering… Hermione sighed. This would be a long day. She could only hope that Fred would keep his promise and be back in the evening, with purple pyjamas, slippers and hot chocolate.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ssssssss</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look cosy out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione had barely resumed her knitting as he was suddenly out there, standing next to her picnic blanket, brown eyes shining with kindness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fred!” Hermione hastily scrambled to her feet and the eagerness in her voice probably gave her away. Did she sound too relieved, pathetic even? She frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mum said I’d find you out here, love. Mind if I sit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not at all. That blanket is big enough for both of us.” She carefully sat down. “What…” Hermione chewed at her bottom lip. “What are you doing here? I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> complaining, it’s just… what about your shop?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred smiled. “Georgie’s having it for the afternoon. He told me to bugger off and who am I to question him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione shrugged. It was not on her to question his twin either, especially when she was so happy to see Fred. With him being here it felt like the sun had just risen which was ridiculous because she’d been sitting in the sunshine for about an hour now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suspect he’s having a girl over again and wants me out of the way, but I cannot say for sure. Anyway…” Fred smiled and pulled something out of his trouser pockets. “I want to give you something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do?” Hermione blinked at him in surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred nodded. “I imagine mum wouldn’t be a fan of us… bunking together every night. She’s a bit worried about propriety, you see?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “But we’re not… this isn’t about…” she started, her cheeks growing hot. Or was it? Was this just the beginning of something… more? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know that, love,” Fred hastily assured her. “I know we’re not like this. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t know and as I imagine you don’t fancy telling her the reason for me being there…” He trailed off and Hermione nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather not,” she admitted shyly. “I mean, she probably knows what’s happened to me, or at least suspects. I’m not sure how much Ron’s told her… or the others. But… she’d worry if she knew that I still have some issues and I’d rather avoid her fussing over me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred snorted. “I don’t blame you, love. She can be a bit too much. So… back to the gift.” He opened his hand and showed her a small bracelet made out of a leather band. It held a delicate golden pendant in the form of a lioness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened. “That’s… beautiful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And pretty useful,” he added with a wink. “It’s a marker, so to say. Whenever you go to bed or feel like you need me, you can activate the bracelet by rubbing the pendant. I’ll know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a smile Fred showed her his wrist and there was the same bracelet, but instead of a lioness it had a magpie as a pendant. “I got the idea from our DA coins, actually. Only that I combined the idea with a… well… a marker. I’ll be able to directly apparate to you, no matter where you are. You can do the same, if you want to. This will let you right through the wards of mine and Georgie’s flat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione stared. “That’s…” There were so many words to describe what he’d done and it was impossible for her to decide for one. Instead she followed her instinct and pulled him into a hug, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder as she squeezed him tight. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred did not reply and instead he just held her, his head softly leaning against hers. She could not have said how long they stayed like this, as time seemed to stand still, but when she let go, she felt as if she’d just taken a long bath in the sunshine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime, love. I told you you’re not alone in this and I meant it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Hermione murmured and only then she let go. “And I cannot tell you how much that means to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t say anything to this but Hermione saw a warmth and kindness in his eyes that made her feel all soft inside. She swore that she’d one day pay him back, make it up to him, she just had to find out how to do that.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ssssssss</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hermione was still nervous during those first days of activating the bracelet, she soon settled into her new nighttime routine with ease. She’d first ready herself for bed, cast an extension charm on the bed and the blanket before touching the little golden lioness that would call her friend. Usually it would not take long for Fred to arrive, always clad in colourful pyjamas, a bathrobe and some funny slippers. By now it was clear that they weren’t Ginny’s, or George’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, three weeks later he suddenly did not appear when she called him, which had never happened before. At first she thought he might be busy… with work… or somebody else. The man still had a private life, right? But then worry started to creep up on her, because Fred would have told her if something was keeping him busy, right? He would have sent an owl, or a Patronus or </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>… But there had been no word from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that she could not spend the night alone, she’d done it many, many times, even after the war. She could do it again. But… what if something was wrong?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took five minutes of restless pacing for Hermione to make up her mind. When she finally had, she hastily put on a baggy jumper and some shoes before she grabbed her wand. The bracelet would take her to him, no matter where he was. She could only hope he wasn’t on a date. That would make things a little awkward. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Of Broken Pieces</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Hermione finished the apparition, she found herself in a dark room, a bedroom. She could make out a cluttered desk in the corner, a shelf, a wardrobe and a bed, and on it…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fred!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There he was, lying face down on the mattress, his fully-clothed body shaking below the woollen blanket he’d pulled over himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you… what’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was at his side in seconds, kneeling down on the floor next to his bed. Only then his head turned, his usually warm, brown eyes clouded with pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hermione.” It was all he said, his jaw hard as he ground his teeth together. He was in pain, lots of pain. She was sure of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me help you, Fred. What do you need?” She was sure her panic was evident from her voice, but she could not rein it in. She did not know what to do, how to help him and the thought was almost unbearable for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what I need.” Fred’s eyes looked at her pleadingly. “You know what this is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did. After she was over her initial shock of seeing him so weak and in so much pain, her brain started to connect the pieces. She knew the signs, the tremors, the pain… she just had assumed… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Fred.” She carefully enlarged his bed and the blanket with a flick of her wand before she climbed onto the mattress next to him. He immediately crawled towards her, wrapping his body around her with a shaky breath that almost broke her. She could not stop the tears running down her cheeks while she held him, hearing the little moans and whimpers coming out of his mouth. She had not known he was suffering too, Fred had never shown any of the signs but maybe she’d just overlooked them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’d even told her he knew what she was going through but she’d just assumed that he was talking about past experience. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She should have paid more attention, should have… but there was no use in beating herself up now. Fred needed her and she’d give him her full attention. That was the least she could do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” she whispered, remembering the times when he’d gently whispered the words to her. “You’re not alone, Fred. I’m not going anywhere…” she promised, raking her fingers through his soft, red hair, enjoying the feeling of it. She’d never touched him like this before, always kept her fingers to herself while he’d gently caressed and soothed her. But today wasn’t about her, this was about him and luckily he’d shown her exactly what to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like she was following an unwritten instruction, her fingers wandering across his shoulders, his back. She’d never realized how strong he was, but now as her fingers traced his muscles below his clothes she realized that he was indeed well built. Now wasn’t the time though, she would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> let her mind wander and fantasise about caressing Fred for other reasons than giving him comfort, she would not take advantage of him in such a way. It wasn’t what she’d wanted him to do when their roles were reversed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “ ‘S feels nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred’s voice was slurry when he pulled her out of her thoughts and only now she realized that his body had stopped trembling. Instead he had lain still on her shoulder, one arm slowly coming to rest around her waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione found herself smiling, relief washing over her. “Good. Want me to continue until you fall asleep? You must be exhausted,” she whispered, absentmindedly pressing a kiss onto his forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm-hmm,” he hummed into the crook of her neck, exhaling as her fingers continued to massage his scalp. She always loved it when he did that with her and she was determined to pay him back. Luckily he’d given her the perfect chance to do so and Hermione was determined not to disappoint. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ssssssss</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the first morning she awoke with Fred next to her, as the boy was still sleeping, his body spooning her from behind. He’d wound his arms around her waist and she could feel his breath tickling her neck as he slept. Lying here with him felt so peaceful, so right, that it made her ache to think that come tomorrow she’d wake up alone again, without having him there by her side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione hated the thought and it wasn’t because she did not want to be alone in bed. She wanted him to be there, him to touch her, kiss her good morning. She paused. Where had that thought suddenly come from? She had no chance to ponder over the question though, as Fred suddenly shifted behind her, his arms tightening around her as he awoke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re still here,” he murmured and Hermione could have sworn there was a trace of wonder in his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, making no attempt to move. She knew that if she did he’d let go of her, and she wasn’t ready to lose his contact with him just yet. For once she wanted to feel him, enjoy his closeness, without being in pain. “Was way too comfy to get up,” she admitted, resting her head against his shoulder. “And I wanted to see if you’re feeling better. I usually am but I had no idea how it is for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could have sworn to feel him smile against her hair. “Oh, I’m surely not complaining,” he rumbled, his mouth slowly wandering in the direction of her ear. “ ‘Cause you’re comfy too, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> comfy that is. And as today’s a Sunday, I’m in no hurry to get up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She felt her heart leapt in excitement at his words. “So… how do you feel, Fred?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better. Much better…” he murmured and she could have sworn he was even closer to her ear now. But he hadn’t moved, at least not that she’d noticed. “Or wait… what do I need to say to make you stay here longer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione chuckled and following an impulse, she turned in his arms and shoved his chest. “Prat! I’m worried about you here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fred smiled. “Don’t be. ‘M fine. Never been better actually. This is like the perfect morning, sleeping in, a pretty girl in my arms…” He trailed off, but Hermione stared at him with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think I’m pretty?” The words were out before she could help it, but Fred just looked at her, smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And clever, kind and brave,” he continued, his forehead coming to rest on top of her head. “Maybe a little bossy as well and that’s definitely not a bad thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No?” Suddenly she sounded breathless and it probably was because her heart raced like she’d just ran a marathon, or because her thoughts raced a hundred miles an hour. There was suddenly a tension between them that had not been there before, or had she just been in too much pain to notice?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not at all. I’d love you to boss me around, at least from time to time. I think it’s charming.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione could not see his eyes, but she could have sworn they twinkled. Her heart beat even faster. “What if I demanded you kissed me?” she asked, deciding to stress her luck. Fred was still there, he’d seen her at her lowest and allowed her to see his. And he was still there, saying all those nice things and… oh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mind went blank as he moved, his hand cupping her cheek as he lowered his head, capturing her lips with his. They moved against her mouth ever so slowly, the hand on her cheek moving towards her ear before sinking into her curls and pulling her closer. It was like everything she’d ever wanted and not dared to dream of, being here with him, happy and free from the pain. Only that…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione stilled, her mind suddenly realizing what they were doing. “We can’t,” she whispered, tearing herself away from him, even though her heart tightened in protest. “You cannot seriously want this, want me,” she explained, suddenly sounding desperate. “I’m broken, Fred, I’m…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook his head before silencing her again with his lips. This time his kiss was more firm, more urgent and Hermione could not help but lose herself into it, surrender to the feelings suddenly washing over her. God, she wanted this, wanted him so badly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You forget that I’m broken too,” he told her later, when he’d ended the kiss, Hermione panting from the lack of oxygen. “You’ve seen it, seen me. Do you not want me because of this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I… that’s…” she protested, suddenly seeing what he was trying to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ridiculous? Absolutely,” Fred agreed, his forehead coming to rest against her’s. “Of course I want you, you brave, strong girl. I want to kiss you good morning and hold you when we fall asleep, kiss you until your body’s panting below mine…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione shivered but Fred wasn’t finished. “And I want to hold you while you’re in pain, whisper into your ear how much I love you and how beautiful you are and mean every word of it. You know… maybe we are broken but that doesn’t mean we can’t be whole together, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She did not know what to say, for all the words she usually had seemed to have left her. Instead, she stared, her eyes trying to communicate what she wasn’t able to say. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hermione?” Suddenly Fred’s eyes looked at her in concern and she realized that she needed to say something, make him realize how badly she wanted what he’d just described.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” It was only the one word she could say but it was enough to make a happy smile break out on his face. “Let’s be whole together,” she added, seeing his reaction before she kissed him, underlining her intention and her words. Fred was right. Maybe she wasn’t whole, wasn’t the perfect Gryffindor Princess the world saw in her. But did it matter? Not to him. Fred wanted her anyway and she wanted him back. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The day Fred shyly presented her with a package of self-designed sweets for their new WWW line, was the day Hermione decided he was the man she’d marry. She’d known she loved him for a while, ever since he’d told her the story of being taken in for questioning after Harry’s, Ron’s and her escape at Bill’s wedding. She hadn’t known, but she should have assumed that Voldemort and the newly infiltrated Ministry would use any means at their disposal to get a hold on the Golden Trio, even torture. But it wasn’t the fact of him being a victim of the Cruciatus, too, that made her fall in love with him though, rather it was the way he made her feel she wasn’t an outsider, without making a fuss about it. Fred had never lost his humour and optimism and he, George and Lee had launched a resistance-radio-broadcast going underground. The torture had not broken him, she realized, and it had not broken her either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, both of them still had to fight with the after-effects of the curse, but so had many more kids their age. The whole of Hogwarts had been submitted to the punishments of the Carrows and therefore had first-hand experience with the blasted curse. That was where the new WWW line came into play. Fred told her they already had their Skiving Snack Boxes, which were a way to fake several illnesses for the consumer’s benefit. Creating a product able to do the opposite, only was the next logical step, Fred explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Usually healing potions taste like old socks or worse,” he said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “I cannot picture a second-year relying on a daily dose of Anti-Jitter-Tonic when the stuff makes you skip your meals for the rest of the day. No growing child needs that kind of additional obstacle. Apart from that only a few of us feel like admitting, there’s a problem in the first place.” He looked at her meaningfully and Hermione knew he was referring to the both of them. With time Hermione had learned that he had done the same as her, hiding his problems from anyone but George, his magical twin, and her. But there were others. Ginny and Neville were still suffering but as they never said anything it took her quite some time to notice the signs for what they were. There were so many victims, victims that preferred to stay hidden, refusing to seek help, to announce that they were broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here we have Cooling Candy Floss and Anti-Bibbering Bites. But there’s also Settling Sweeties, Soothing Snowballs, Healing Honeycomb and Back-to-normal Nougat. Those are actually my favourite, wanna try some? We also have a special brand of sleep-aiding hot chocolate.” He waggled his brows. “Everything from the line is totally safe to consume for children and tastes a hundred times better than the stuff you get as a prescription. What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thought that Fred was perfect and that there was no way she’d let him slip to her fingers. She thought she wanted to make cute, redheaded babies with him, her ovaries urging her to start right away actually. But first, she’d marry him, she decided, making a mental note to ask him the question as soon as she had planned out the perfect way to do so. That would take time and careful consideration, but not too much time because suddenly Hermione could not wait to make Fred Weasley hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione? Are you… alright?” Fred’s voice was hesitant and when she focussed back on him she saw that he nervously waited for her approval. Poor, oblivious Fred. He had no idea what he’d just done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re perfect,” Hermione cooed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘You’re perfect,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> she added in her thoughts before pulling him into a long, longing kiss, determined to show him how much she appreciated his care and cleverness. </span>
  <span>Hermione had finally found her other half, her happiness and with every day she spent with Fred, experienced his love, she felt Bellatrix’ influence fade a bit more.</span>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That's it, my friends! I hope you enjoyed this little story that I threw together in three days. Thank you again to my kind and helpful beta, multilingualism, and to all of you who are reading my stories and encouraging me to keep going. I'm so happy to be part of this community!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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